Author Topic: Lower your eyelids to die with the sun [PRP]  (Read 28 times)

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

Offline Tibet

  • Death Valley
  • Initiate
  • ***
  • Posts: 49
  • Gender: Male
  • Liked: 11
  • Likes Given: 18
Lower your eyelids to die with the sun [PRP]
« on: June 18, 2017, 10:08:42 PM »
Fire was a killer; it brought back childhood memories that would have been chilling to anyone who was not Tibet.

The infirmary threshed with activity, their warriors coming in burned to second and third degrees. His mistress was still incapacitated by her own, lying prone upon the best makeshift bed they could create for her, the pale skin starting to slough off grotesquely, leaving bloody smears and raw tissue exposed in its wake. Oukoku-Kai was faring well, treading water against the enemy that so outnumbered them, but Tibet had a sick fluttering feeling low in his chest that told him... it was all so precarious.

If they reached paradise, would it be here, even if they lost that supreme and conclusive fight? He didn't know. He was still so young. They needed more aloe; this unlike answers he could supply.

Darken's tutelage had not made him an herbal master overnight. There was far too much to go through, too many nuances, too many plants that damn well could have been twins if not for the little fact that one clots bleeding and the other makes you vomit until you die. Yet he did know the important basics, enough to be able to recognize the particular smell of fleshy gray-green leaves, white-spotted and serrated at the ends, as what he searched for. He'd wandered some distance from the infirmary to find them, and the peril of this exerted a quiet but constant alarm in the back of his mind.

The hellion boy sniffed at earth, his nose far more capable than his eyes, and carefully opened his jaws to pluck the last of his crop. He was surprisingly dexterous with that mouth; one learned caution quickly when they were capable of crushing a femur like a matchstick. Just set it into my little satchel -- where did I put that now --

Someone screamed, too close. Pandemonium threatened to breach its edges. Tibet froze instinctively and ducked low over his aloe. He felt as though he could taste his heartbeat.

He scanned the immediate area for sudden movement.

He waited.
« Last Edit: June 18, 2017, 10:14:29 PM by Tibet »
Oh, Abraham would raise his hands
And mourn this very day
For his children left the promised land
In search of their own way

Played by Kotake